The Rumble of Distant Thunder
by Blackcat509
Summary: All that was left of the storm outside was the rumble of distant thunder, but inside it was a different story. Slightly sentient Atlantis. Sparky. Tag to The Storm & The Eye.


**All that was left of the storm outside was the rumble of distant thunder, but inside it was a different story. **

**It's not very talkative so brace yourself for a lot of description.**

Spoilers – The Storm & The Eye

Pairing – Sparky (If anyone can tell me where that shipper name comes from, please do!)

By the time John felt he could leave the Control Room the population of Atlantis had started to return and all that was left of the storm was the rumble of distant thunder. Rodney had sloppily bandaged his own arm over his jacket, making John smile at his stupidity. _'Who in their right mind bandages over clothing.'_ As he began to think about what had led Rodney to need that dressing, John's thoughts turned as stormy as the weather outside had been.

_'What right do I have to smile. I took the lives of over sixty men. What's worse is that when I killed those men it felt good.'_ His own thoughts were bitter towards himself as regret and self loathing flooded his mind. _'But I was doing for Atlantis, to protect Rodney and Elizabeth. Your a soldier John, it's what your trained to do.'_ His own brain began rationalising against it's own doubts.

As his internal battle waged on he knew he need to talk to someone, to see if he made the right decisions. Dr Heightmeyer was the obvious choice, but she hadn't returned to the City yet and he didn't really trust therapists anyway. Absent mindedly he made his way over Elizabeth's office, surprised to find it empty.

"She disappeared right the after shield came down and that wave dissipated." Rodney's voice behind him startled him, but he didn't show it.

"That's not like Elizabeth." His voice was coloured with concern, "do you know where she went?"

"Out on to the balcony maybe, to watch the end of the storm. You should go check, your the only one who she doesn't mind going out there." The Canadians tone held a hint of teasing but John took it at face value, he'd dissect what Rodney meant later. Now he needed to make sure Elizabeth was OK.

When his search of the Balcony came up empty he headed down to the infirmary to check there, only to find it in darkness. By now he was getting frantic. Thoughts that maybe he'd missed when he shot at Kolya and he'd dragged her through the 'Gate, or worse, he'd missed and now Elizabeth was lying on a table in the morgue flooded his mind, irrational though they were.

With so few people in the City he could easily run though the corridors and check the main locations in Atlantis, the mess hall, the jumper bay, some of the science labs. When his search turned up empty he turned to the only thing he thought could help him. Atlantis itself. As if sensing his desperation the City responded instantly, guiding him to Elizabeth's room. He quickly knocked on her door and waited for a response. When he didn't get one he tried again and waited somewhat impatiently for an answer. Again, there was nothing. Realising she must be sleeping, John knew he should leave and let her rest, but his need to see her, to make sure she was all right was still present. The door slid open at his will and he stepped inside letting the it hiss closed behind him.

The entire room was in semi darkness, lit only by the faint flash of lightening and the small amount of silver light from the moon that was coming through the cracks in the cloud cover. For such an organised person, Elizabeth's room was a mess. Files were scattered around the room on every surface available, with some even in piles on the floor. It looked like most of her wardrobe was draped over the back of several chairs and the few personal items she managed to bring were on a table next to the bed, which was unmade. And empty. Immediately the sense of calm that had hit John as he entered Elizabeth's room was gone to be replaced with panic. It took him a minute to realise why he was still stood in her room instead of setting a search party out looking for her, but in the back of his mind he could feel it. The certainty that Elizabeth was here, and that she needed him. A certainty that only Atlantis could give him. It was then he heard the sound of water running in the bathroom.

Cautiously he made his way over to the door that led to the adjoining bathroom, stopping when he reached the entrance.

"'Lizabeth?" Pausing he waited for a response and then called out again. "'Lizabeth are you all right?" When he didn't get a response he took a breath and walked in. He was startled by what he saw.

The Bathroom had a heavy layer of steam filling it but he could easily make out Elizabeth sat in the shower cubical fully clothed with her knees pulled impossibly close to her chest. Slowly he made his way over to the glass door and crouched down in front of it to try and get a response.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing?" No response. "Why are you in the shower fully clothed?" No response. For a few moments John just watched her, noticing the shadows in her eyes and he began to worry about how out of it she was. Finally he took matters into his own hands and began to pull his clothes of, leaving them in pile on the floor and him standing in his boxers.

"OK Elizabeth if your listening to me don't freak out, I just don't want my clothes soaked through again." Sliding the shower door open he stepped in under the spray, that, in the Atlantian showers, came from the ceiling and was an square of water that covered the whole area of the shower cubical. And was currently at a scarily high temperature in John's opinion. Pulling the door closed behind him, he slid down the glass until he was sat with his back leaning against the cool surface.

"Elizabeth." He tried again, but still he got no response from the woman opposite him. "OK, 'Lizabeth, I'm going to get you out of these clothes. So don't just suddenly freak out on me and punch me in the face or something. I just want to make sure your all right." Moving by her side, John began to untie her boots and work them of her feet. Leaving them in the corner he began on her socks and then dumped them with her boots. Gently he leaned her forwards, unnerved when she didn't protest and slid her sodden jacket down her arms. Pausing, John took a breath and then drew her knees down from her chest and slowly worked her pants of her hips and the threw them into the corner. He then turned to her top and tried not to notice how it was stuck to her body in all the right places or just how long her bare legs were. Slowly he slid the red shirt up and off her back, carefully threading her head and arms through the holes, leaving Elizabeth in nothing but her underwear. Much like himself really.

After a few moments Elizabeth pulled her knees back to her chest and rested her head on them facing John, but not _seeing_ him. Her eyes still cast in shadows. Both of them continued to just sit there for a long while, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally Elizabeth broke the silence.

"Thank you." Elizabeth whispered, her voice almost lost under the sound of the water. Instantly John snapped back to the present and noticed Elizabeth watching him.

"For what?"

"Shooting him." The gratitude in her voice made John snap.

"Elizabeth, how can you thank me for shooting someone. I nearly killed you. That shot was too close to you. I don't ever want to put you in that position again, in a position where you could die and it would be my fault. Elizabeth I can't live without you anymore." He fell silent after that, just watching her, gauging her reaction. He took the half smile on her tired and pale face as acceptance of what he said. Finally she spoke again.

"I'm cold John." Immediately he slid along the wall and wrapped his arm around her letting his hand rest on her right shoulder as he felt her head slip onto his chest. He was about to bring his hand up to brush her curls of her face when he noticed his hand was a darker shade of red than the rest of his heated body.

"Elizabeth, you bleeding!"

"I can't feel it. I'm cold." Suddenly it all clicked into place, her unusual behaviour and how cold she was. Shock. After everything she'd been through it was no surprise really.

"Come on 'Lizabeth, Let's get you warm and dry and I'll clean that shoulder up." All she did was nod in response. Slowly he stood up an pulled her up with him, all be it gently. Opening the door and turning the water of at the same time he guided her out onto the cold tiled floor of her bathroom. Immediately he felt her shiver in his arms. Grabbing two towels, he wrapped one around himself and then one around Elizabeth and started walking them towards her bed and onto a carpeted floor, finally sitting her down on her crumpled bedding. Moving over to the back wall he retrieved a first aid kit that John had quickly learnt all Ancient rooms have hidden somewhere. Carefully he set about cleaning the wound on her right shoulder. A wound made by _his_ bullet when _he_ shot Kolya. He knew his guilt levels should be sky high by now but, with the absolute trust she had put into him then and again now, John didn't feel to worried about it.

After cleaning what was only a graze, John pulled back the bedding on Elizabeth's bed and gently lay her down, taking the wet towel from around her shoulders and pulling the quilt up at the same time. He was about to leave to retrieve his clothes when a hand grabbed his. He looked down to see Elizabeth watching him with hooded eyes.

"Don't leave." Her voice held a tone of pleading, silently asking him to keep out the demons that the hot water hadn't chased away. Without question, John dropped both towels on the floor and climbed into the small bed behind Elizabeth, her back pressed against his chest and her head tucked safely under his chin.

"Thank you." She whispered again.

"It's OK, I'll make sure your never put in that situation again though."

"No, for coming. For taking care of me. Your the only one I'd ever let see me like this. I can't be without you either." Her voice was still a whisper but it held a warmth John had never heard before, all he could do was hold her a little tighter.

"Sleep now, 'Liz'beth." He murmured, placing a kiss on the crown of her head.

It didn't take long for her breathing to even out in his arms and only then did he allow himself to drift of to sleep, secure with the knowledge that he had done the right thing.

**A/N – This isn't exactly how I planned on this ending but it felt right when I wrote it. Also this is my first attempt at a slightly more Sparky story so please tell me if I got it right or where I went wrong and what I can improve. **


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